


Tristan

by Facha_Hasserbunde



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Legacy of Kain
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Loss, Mutilation, Persecution, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Facha_Hasserbunde/pseuds/Facha_Hasserbunde
Summary: "I am Tristan, proud son of the Razielim. I have witnessed the rise and fall of our once noble and revered clan.Standing shoulder to shoulder with my brothers and sisters I have tried my utter best to keep our remaining numbers safe.And we were lucky enough to have found some place of refuge in the abandoned and nearly forgotten underground complexes.But even here there is no rest for my clan and they must be vigilant at all times."
Kudos: 3
Collections: The Land of Nosgoth





	1. The descent

Kain committed the most horrendous act of cruelty and filicide. Our proud and beloved Lord Raziel fell. He fell by command of his own creator, fell by the hands of his own brethren, fell to his doom in the Lake of the Death. And as his body would meet decay at the bottom of that dreadful water filled oubliette, our clan would know decay by the hands of those flooding our region.  
With our Emperor nowhere to be found, the others fell upon us like packs of ravenous wolfs. We tried our best defending our territory, but we could not outlast the massive onslaught that was released upon us.

I am Tristan, proud son of the Razielim. I have witnessed the rise and fall of our once noble and revered clan. Standing shoulder to shoulder with my brothers and sisters I have tried my utter best to keep our remaining numbers safe. And we were lucky enough to have found some place of refuge in the abandoned and nearly forgotten underground complexes. But even here there is no rest for my clan and they must be vigilant at all times.

When our Lord was taken from us, I was still in my late fledgling years and sadly my transcendence into adulthood came at bad timing. Holding it back as long as I could, still trying to help my clan members escape those greedy claws of death, I eventually had to give in to the inescapable change. When my time had come I was away on an excursion too far from my new home. There was no chance of me ever returning on time to seek guidance, so I remained where I was and tried to listen to my instincts the best I could. I had managed to find a secluded spot and I knew nothing of the world as I lay resting in my pupating state.

Eventually I emerged, gifted with the same kind of wings that sentenced my Lord to his death. Like him, they brought me little luck, because I would never even get the chance to learn how to use them. Arising from my pupating state without any member of my clan to guide me was a wild ride on its own. I felt feral, confused, hungry, but also strangely weaker then I was before. My mind cleared a bit when I found someone to feed from, but it took quite some time for me to become myself again.

During this challenging period I somehow managed to meet up with my people again. And here I was told many of our elders had perished during the time of my absence. The fresh and remaining fledglings were scared, rudderless and underfed. In my still weakened state I was quite useless as a defender, but I took on a new role as hunter and provider. Feral human prey was usually easy to catch, but sometimes hard to come by. So sometimes I snuck into a bloodfarm to steal victims. If I was lucky I could snatch a few of the more well-bred and healthier stock, but that always was a higher risk operation. Such an act of thievery would be rewarded with a severe punishment if they would catch me. But one way or the other, I usually succeeded in securing some prey to drag back to our hide out, so my clan could at least feed themselves properly.

It was during one of my hunts that things turned really bad. I had been stalking a group of feral travellers for some time now, but I was hesitant about making my move just yet. I didn’t like the look of the weapons they were carrying along with them. Normally I would have shrugged about the possible damage from a few puny crossbow bolts, but a little voice in my mind kept whispering to me to be watchful. Little did I know I had more than a few crossbows to worry about. For I, the hunter, was soon to turn prey myself.


	2. Agonizing internment

They grabbed me so quickly I hardly had the chance to realise what had happened. I was tossed to the ground and one of them constricted me with its vile magic. Another stomped a heavy foot in the back of my neck and held it there while they all began laughing and taunting at me. It was unmistakable; they were of Dumah’s despicable brood. I heard them banter among each other I was a nice catch and that it had been a while since they caught a winged one. I expected them to kill me right there on the spot, but I was taken back to their territory.

Never had I known such pain and torment. For days I was assaulted and tortured by those deviants. Partially they did it for fun, partially to make me cough up any information on the whereabouts of my clan members. But all I coughed up was blood and angry words to describe these despicable bastards and their monstrous Sire. They did not take kindly to this and during one of the last days of suffering they burned one side of my face with torches. As I was in a very weakened state, my wounds could not heal properly and some scars are still visible till this very day. Perhaps they thought they could loosen my tongue by robbing me of my fairness, but I remained silent. I told them I would choose death over betrayal any day.

And as they grew bored with me, it seemed they were willing to grand me my wish. One day I was set free, just like that. They told me to run for my life and they meant this quite literally. Given only a little head start I was to be hunted down by a group of young fledglings very eager to prove themselves worthy. While fleeing those bloodhounds I used every skill I possessed, but it was no use. I was far too weak and broken to defend myself properly. It was at this final moment before my recapture I attempted to make use of my wings. But I still had no full control over them. They flapped at my command, but I did not lift from the ground. Pain struck me once more, when they came tearing at me with their claws and teeth.

Dishonourable creatures they were, falling upon me with so many at once. But I guess you can’t blame the dogs for the way their masters have trained them to act. But for one act set upon my person I shall never grand forgiveness. During our brief fight, one of them grabbed my right wing and it was cut off from my shoulder. The pain was excruciating and their laughs added to the misery. The deed mimicked the fall of my beloved Lord and they mocked and slandered his name during the process. I remember them throwing the wing in front of me and for a short moment it still twitched.

As I witnessed this horrible sight, my vision turned to darkness, but I would not know rest. Not yet. I regained my consciousness when a sharp jolt hit my shoulder. Apparently I was propped up against a wall ready to be used as target practice. I eyed a spear sticking out from my shoulder and I growled as another spear entered my upper arm. This might be the only time in my long life I had wished to be mortal, so my suffering and humiliation would have seized so much sooner.

Feeling like a pincushion, I was glad when they ran out of spears to throw at me. But one of them had the bright idea to pull them from my body and start a new round of vampire darts. As the Dumahim walked up to me and made an attempt to pull on the first spear, he halted. The whole group seemed to be suddenly skittering around, like something was afoot. And they were right. It seemed like an ambush from a rival clan. My vision was too blurred to notice the colors or insignia, but I was glad they came.

I have no recollection of the fight that followed, because I blacked out once more. I only woke again, finding someone pulling on the spears lodged in my corpus. I fell to the ground like a limp rag when I was released from the last spikey staff and I tried to take a look at my unknown saviour. But my keen sight was still failing me. The only thing I could make out was some sort of silhouette that then vanished as soon as I attempted to exchange a few words. I never knew who offered me this act of kindness, but at that moment I did feel indebted.


	3. Death comes knocking

How much time had passed before I felt strong enough to at least lift myself up, I do not know. With my eyes still quite useless, I was dependent on my other senses. Taking in the scent of a nearby Dumahim I shivered for a moment, but there was no need for worry. It appeared to be freshly fallen and smelling its spilled blood a frenzy took me. Strengthened solely by instinct I crawled towards the body and I sank my teeth deep into its throat. I drank what little blood there was left and even this small amount made me feel so euphoric I could not stop myself from laughing like a mad man. It had been too long since I fed and I needed more, so much more. So I scavenged for more vampires fallen during the previous fight and I drained them all.

After the bloodlust subsided and my mind slightly cleared again, I allowed myself some time to heal before undertaking the long journey home. Or the gloomy underground den we were forced to call our home. I grieved the loss of my wing dearly and I even looked around twice, trying to see if it was still there. But it was nowhere to be found, so I guess they took it with them as a trophy. This saddened me, as did the fact the scars on my face failed to heal up properly. I would remain permanently marked by this experience and I wondered about the reactions from my clan members.

Their reactions fortunately were milder than I anticipated and they worried about me deeply. I was glad to be back amongst my own and I was nursed back to full health with great care. Feeling strong and healthy again, it was my turn to repay their efforts by providing and protecting, as I did before. But I was soon to find out I could not protect them and I would only provide them with death.

How could I have been so foolish, so very careless. Shamefully I had fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book. They had found our hidden home and I was the one who delivered them straight to our doorstep. Thinking back, my release from those spears probably was no random act of kindness. Nothing in this harsh and twisted world ever is. They must have followed me for days and blinded by despair and mind fogging bloodlust I noticed nothing. Perhaps they even left out the bodies of those freshly fallen fighters on purpose. Ensuring them I could gather enough strength to flee for my home.

When the invasion began, it brought back so many bad memories from the first time they invaded our territory. It was like fighting of a tidal wave. Though getting caught in a firestorm would have been a more fitting description, since they took to setting almost anything ablaze that would burn. Sometimes when I allow myself to slumber, I can still hear the cries and screams of my brothers and sisters as they slowly burned to death. Almost none were spared that day. Those who fled the flames and went outside would meet their demise by fangs, claws and Dumahim forged steel.

The lucky few that managed to survive I helped to safety by leading them through a secret tunnel system. My clan had been preparing this escape route many years prior to this event, because of course we were not unmindful to this very serious threat always and ever present. And even if the system was fulfilling its purpose flawlessly, I had hoped to see a higher count of survivors.

During our escape I suddenly noticed the presence of some Dumahim still making pursuit. And though I would never admit to it openly, their amount of persistence and stamina was impressive. They would never have given up, but neither would I. As we were almost coming to the end of our escape route I handed over command to the oldest and most capable fledgling amongst them. I told him to keep the group moving until they reached the second safe haven and that I would take care of the last perusing Dumahim. Assuring the fledgling I would soon follow them, he reluctantly accepted and the group went on their way again.

But I had lied. I would not be joining them. The instant they were far enough out of sight I set the locking mechanism in motion, permanently shutting down this escape route. On the other side they would meet up with another small colony and find their refuge there. Our Elders had advised us to spread ourselves in our new underground territory, because this way it would not be easy to wipe us out in one instance.

Telling myself the others would find sanctuary soon, I cleared my mind enough to fulfil the last task to ensure their safety. As quickly as I could I erased our tracks and I deliberately took and alternate route in a nearby tunnel. I made my prints and scent as obvious as possible and I could already hear their echoing growls closing in on me. Silently I awaited the coming of the Dumahim soldiers and I prepared myself for what I thought to be my last battle ever. I prepared myself to perish.

Yet, I lived. I had slain my attackers and I miraculously found my way back to the surface fairly unscathed. From afar I watched my home turn to ruin for a second time and I vowed never to witness such a thing again. I could have regrouped with the other survivors in our adjacent colony, but I had learned my lesson. I would not take the risk of being followed once more. And I dared not face the possible dishoner that awaited me at home. The thought of my family eyeing me with disdain and disappointment because I caused so much death by my carelessness, was too much to bear. I would rather live my life in shameful solitude.


	4. Wary wanderer

Of course I did not turn my back on my clan wholly, because I kept surveying and scouting the most vulnerable areas from time to time. And if I noticed any suspicious ongoings or possible enemies, I would take out that threat the best way I could. But never would I make my presence known to friend or foe. And even though I met with some very tough times while being on my own, I grew stronger and gained more skills with each hardship or challenge I encountered.

For example, rain and daylight would not bother me as much as it did before. I still do not prefer it, but living outdoors for so long with constant exposure to the elements has made it more bearable over time. At the beginning it also helped that I took to wearing a thick hooded cape. The extra layer protected me against the already named dangers, but I would continue to wear said garment when it already outlived that purpose.

It was also perfect for hiding my appearance and being able to go around unnoticed. Also the idea of that dark hood hiding my face felt comforting. Once I felt fair, but now I don’t like the possibility of people asking questions about my facial scars. And in an attempt to disguise my Razielim form even further, I would tightly tuck away my remaining wing underneath the thick fabric.

On very rare occasions, when melancholy took me and my thoughts turned very gloomy, I even contemplated about cutting off the remaining wing myself. It was functioning, but it would never be of any real use to me. There were even a few times I came close to actually doing it, but luckily I always stayed my hand. Disguising who you are is one thing, but destroying one’s proud heritage is something completely different. It would be a sin.

When over the years the threats to my clan’s hidden territories seemed to become less frequent, I grew somewhat bored with my surroundings. And having seen some of the more daring young Razielim venture above ground, seemingly strong enough and in somewhat approvable health, I allowed myself to move on a bit further away. For years on end I took to traveling the land, rarely staying in one place for too long. Always having fear for being followed or sought out. However these days this would prove a hard challenge for any foolish enough to try. I had honed my survival skills and keen senses to an extreme, making me experience a constant state of awareness. This could leave me quite on edge sometimes, but it protected me from repeating my past mistakes by foolish inattention ever again.

During my travels I explored many different areas, sometimes even discovering unknown routes or hidden passageways. To my surprise I even found a few unspoiled places, still untouched by corruption or the greed of the clans. The land here was less barren then elsewhere and trees and plants would still grow in bright abundance. This must have been the way all of Nosgoth looked before the rise of our Empire and it was a beautiful sight to behold.

This was still man’s country, bringing forth very healthy and well-fed stock. And without any competition from other vampires, here I had found such bountiful hunting grounds. But I would not overindulge myself with the rich spoils. Unlike many of my kind, I came to understand a delicate balance. Take only what you need, when you need it, otherwise you’ll end up starving. And since the population of these isolated villages was very slim, I made my pickings thoughtfully, careful not to disrupt their numbers too much. I even became fond of the sobriquets they would start to make up for me. Mothers would tell their young to behave, or the dreadful “ _Night's Bane_ ”, “ _Silent Snatcher_ ” or simply “ _Hunter Vampire_ ” would come for them next. Though this was untrue, the names charmed me and the honor of becoming a local legend could even force a little smile from my lips.

The periods of time I spend in these secluded parts were always enjoyable. I could amuse myself for days by just silently observing the daily humdrum lives of these silly creatures. It made me understand why humans cherished such places and for a short time I would even find a small amount of peace here. But I was sure this rare scenery would not last forever. For though less present at that time, soon the fumes from our furnaces would smother the sun here as well. Slowing or even stopping the growth of all that lushes green.

And if the furnaces wouldn’t disrupt their rich way of life, others of my kind would. Surely I was not the only one out exploring these remote areas with settlements so small the old cartographers never even bothered to include them on any of the maps. What fate had in store for these inhabitants I could not say. Because as always I did not allow myself to linger in one place for too long. Not even at these sites so seemingly perfect. Of course I did return to these favoured places from time to time. Always hoping to find them untouched by others the next time I visited.

Compared to what other vampires could do to them, my ways of dealing in death would be considered courteous. I rarely made my victims suffer and on occasion I would even show them mercy by ceasing my feeding before completely draining them. It would depend on the situation, their worth or their attitude towards me. And even if I would finish them off, I would not defile the corpses the way some others would.


	5. A chance meeting

One day, while seeking out a suitable resting place, I picked up on the scent of blood and death. The odour was still quite strong, indicating the kill might be somewhat fresh. Being curious I tracked down its source and I stumbled across the disrobed bodies of two humans. One was lying face down on the ground, the other was strung up hanging upside down from a dead tree. Who had attacked and killed them was easy to deduce. They had fallen victim to Skinners. From the one lying on the ground, they apparently only took a piece of skin from the back, but the one hanging from the tree was skinned wholly. The only thing still visible was bloody red muscle tissue and this was the main source of the scent I had picked up.

As I slowly walked round the bodies, frowning at the Melchahim handywork, I suddenly noticed something moving in the corner of my eye. I pulled my sword instantly in self defence, but I was met by no real threat. Standing there was a small human child, dressed in rags and it was silently staring at me. I sheathed my sword again and returned the silent stare. Neither of us moved or made a sound, both deciding what to make of each other. My guess was that these despoiled corpses belonged to the child’s parents and that the youngling had lingered here after the event, not knowing what to do or where to go.

Why the Melchahim spared this young human, I dare not say. Perhaps the parents had time to hide their child or the Skinners were simply not interested in such a small hide. By the looks of it I would say the child was about two annual cycles old at the time of our encounter. It could walk properly on those stubby legs, but at that time I wasn’t sure about the ability of speech. I also wasn’t sure what to do with the little childling. It had no chance of surviving on its own, so perhaps a mercy killing would be for the best.

While I was deciding on the best method to use in this case, the child had walked up to me. It was such a strange, surreal moment. This small human must have witnessed the most horrendous act of brutality it had ever seen in its short life. And yet here it was standing close to me, apparently without any sense of fear at all. I stared down at the youngster and it looked straight up at me with large questioning eyes. I was intrigued by this behaviour and it confused me deeply when I suddenly felt a small hand wrap around my index claw.

The gentle gesture had surprised and moved me, but this was no time to suddenly become sentimental. I would do what needed to be done and I would make it a swift and painless act of compassion. But never before had I been in such an awkward situation. Taking a life this young proved to be a very uneasy task. Especially since the child just kept on gazing at me with those bright innocent eyes. It seemed the youth wasn’t even aware of my dark intent and that should have made it even easier to swiftly douse the light in those curious blue orbs.

I cursed at my hesitation and I hated the fact I could not bring myself to finish this simple task. I had committed far worse acts of violence and I never suffered from any scruples before. Now in my head I was rapidly thinking of excuses to not make this my fault. If anyone was to blame for this childling’s misfortune, it would be those Skinners. Damn, those flabby fleshbags for not finishing their hunt properly and leaving me to clean up this mess I morally could not walk away from. My anger would even turn to the deceased parents. Living in this cruel and uncertain world, who in their right mind would even try to raise a family?

Family, this was the word causing my musing mind to immediately fall silent. I still remembered the value of family and ensuring the continuation of your own kind was absolutely worth any risk or hardship. My thoughts turned to my clan and the fact I was separated from them for such a long time now. I had experienced wistfulness from time to time, but recently I had been feeling particular lonely and aimless. Perhaps this chance meeting could provide me with a solution to my growing boredom and lonesomeness.


	6. "Bother"

Since I could not bring myself to kill or abandon the child, I decided to adopt it into my care. Or at least for the time being until I had found a more suitable and morally less objecting solution. At that time I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into, because I never kept a human before. Hunting and killing them was an easy objective, keeping one alive was something completely different. But if the Zephonim could keep so many of them as obedient pets, surely I should be able to manage just one.

In the time that followed there would be moments I looked back at that assumption and I mocked myself for ever thinking this would be easy. Taking care of fledglings could prove quite challenging, when done properly, but a human child had completely different wants and needs. And there were other kinds of weaknesses I had to consider. I needed to make sure the young one always had enough water to drink and I gathered as much food as I could to keep it fed properly. New clothes were also needed on a regular basis and I was surprised at how fast human younglings could grow.

Materials for new clothing could be somewhat hard to come by, but I usually managed to craft something suitable myself. I never thought the basic sewing skills I once picked up as a very young fledgling would serve me so well. I had obtained this knowledge by sometimes observing a very beautiful and talented Zephonim seamstress at work. She could create the most beautiful works of art with her needlework and some of her embroidments and tapestries from our bygone golden era are still around today. But I lack the finesse skills of a Zephonim or even a Melchahim for that matter. I am lucky enough my claws can hold the bone needle steady enough to keep the stiches sturdy and practical.

Keeping up with the basic needs of this child eventually became somewhat of a routine and I tried to remember what I learned about human behaviour while watching them from afar. But sometimes it would prove very hard to interact with this youngling. The only thing easy to discover was the fact it was a female, but for a long time I would not even know her birth given name. From the day I took her in, she refused to speak. At first I wasn’t even sure she was capable of any speech, but during her time of sleep she would prove otherwise. She would mumble words or call out for her parents in grief. But during her waking hours, she was silent. Not even uttering a single syllable. Nor would she laugh or cry for that matter.

She would be obedient most of the time and listen closely to the instructions I gave her. But there were also times she could be a great nuisance and I had to act very strict. Never did I raise my hand at her though, for she knew better than to cross the line too much. And as for a name, since she would not share her real name, I took to calling her **_Bother_**. It seemed like a fitting name at the time, because this was how raising a human child could feel sometimes. She would slow me down such a great deal and sometimes I would put myself at insane high risk to ensure her needs. Yet I did not give up on my caregiving that easily. She made for a welcome distraction and I told myself I could always get rid of her, when I no longer felt the desire to keep a human.

But this would never come to happen. As she grew, so grew my fondness of her. Steadily she was warming up to me as well and conversations were possible. At first we talked about simple, small things, but as she aged we discussed all kinds of matters. She was particularly fond of hearing stories, songs or poems and luckily I had gathered a lot of those over the course of these long years. Slowly she was becoming less and less of a burden and I stimulated her independence. I taught her all the skills she would need to possess if she was to keep herself alive in this harsh world. Of course I would always try to protect her whenever I could, but I might not be around all the time. And as I learned, the best way to ensure someone’s safety in your absence is to teach them self-defence. I would make sure she would never be easy prey.

When I trained and educated her, I felt true fatherly pride. I hoped my own Sire felt the same way about me as I made progress and showed my enthusiasm. **_Bother_** or **_Bovy_** as I later would start to call her, was an excellent pupil. She picked up everything I taught her with ease and for a human she was very resilient and resourceful. If it would have been her wish, she would have made an excellent addition to the Razielim once she would be mature enough. But I was sure she would love her mortality too much. And even if she would choose differently there would be a setback. The knowledge of creating fledglings was never passed on to me, though I dearly wished to own this skill.


	7. Lost innocence

For many years we travelled together, Bovy and I. And I saw her blossom into womanhood over the course of about sixteen cycles. No longer was she this helpless little childling clinging to me for assistance and care. She was very capable of fending for herself. On one hand this was a very good sign on the other hand I already knew this would mean a big change was upcoming. When she broke free from her grief as a child, she had always shown curiosity about the world around her and this didn’t slim down over the years. One day she asked my permission to socially seek out other humans on her own and I had been expecting this request for years now. Being her master I could simply have denied her appeal and she would have had to obey me. But my heart had grown weak for this human and reluctantly I granted her this request. She would be allowed to travel on her own but for a short time only.

Checking if she had enough supplies I sent her on her way to one of the remote peaceful villages I once visited and she promised to rendezvous back with me here within a month. But things did not go as planned. I knew I should have shadowed her from the beginning, but I wanted her to enjoy the idea of freedom. Perhaps she would even find a strapping young lad with whom she would consummate her adulthood. An act I cared not to witness. For even if I accepted the fact humans grow up so very fast, to me she was still a childling in many aspects. But I was sure the male humans would notice her for completely different aspects.

But as I would come to find out, male humans were not the ones I should have been worried about. When a month and five days had passed, there was still no sign of Bovy and worry took me. I decided not to wait any longer and I set forth to find her. When I reached the village I was in for a big shock. Unknowingly to me, this village had recently been found and claimed by the Turelim.

The place seemed overrun with large and bulky soldiers. They were quite busy managing and bullying the villagers and it looked like plans were already set in motion to start up a new bloodfarm. I guess Turel must have been overly pleased with himself for adding such a rare and rich piece of land to his territory. But I was not there to be bitter about this kinslayer. I was here to find someone who became just as dear to me as my own kin.

Silently I made my way through the village. I made sure to be extra careful, because those big Turelim ears were extra sensitive. I had seen some twitch a few times when I came near them, but so far I had remained undetected. Some part of me was hoping not to find Bovy here, but I knew better than to rely on hope. Because there she was, my adoptive human child, tied to a tree with thick ropes. It was a terrible sight to behold and since she was not moving I feared the worst. Her body appeared battered and bruised and there were visible bite marks. Also seeing the state of her clothing I dared not guess what other vile deeds had been done to her. But she would not suffer any longer. Alive or dead, I would take her away from there.

Avoiding two particularly large sentinels I made my way to the tree where she was bound. As I came closer, it was such a relieve to hear her heartbeat. It was slow and unsteady, but at least she was still alive. Quickly surveying my surroundings one more time, I stepped forward as close to her as I could. I listened to her shallow breathing and I gently placed my clawed hand against her left cheek. This woke her up immediately and she flinched in terror. Keeping her from making a sound, I placed my hand over her mouth. Her eyelids were quite swollen from the assaults she endured, but luckily she was able to recognize me.

At that moment I wished she was gifted with the whisper as well, for it would have made our interaction so much easier. I rather not have made any vocal sound to avoid being detected, but I had to speak comfort to her. My soft words made her smile with some relieve and then she begged for my forgiveness. She felt she had failed me and my teachings. But how could any amount of training save a single human from such a large number of vampires. She was lucky enough to be left alive. And I dearly wanted her to remain that way.

While I was cutting the rope with my jagged dagger I supported her body. It was very clear she would not be able to stand or walk away on her own. So I was ready to carry her to safety on my shoulders. Our escape was a quite clean one, but I did not return to our previous base camp. I took her to an old temple ruin instead. I knew there would be fresh, running water nearby and she badly needed to replenish her fluids. The water could also be used to compress her wounds and bruises and I used scraps of my own cloak as bandages. Making the compresses was a great discomfort to me. Because it burned my hands every time I made a new wet wrapping. But she was well worth the pain.


	8. The road to retribution

For days we remained in this former place of worship and we sat there in almost complete silence. Physically she was healing quite well, but mentally she still had a lot to process. When I wasn’t surveying the surroundings or keeping watch I would try to talk to her about what happened. But for a second time in her life she fell silent. She would not speak of what had befallen her and I respected her choice. For I knew she would share her grief, once she felt ready to do so and I would be there to listen.

And as I anticipated slowly her story would start to take shape. When she reached the village and noticed the Turelim forces, she had tried to help some of the inhabitants. Her plan was perfect and I was proud of her ingenuity. But she could not have foreseen being betrayed by one of her own kind. One of the humans clearly panicked and went on to tell the Turelim of the planned escape and everything turned to chaos. All of the participants were captured before anything could even be set in motion. The Turelim especially took interest in Bovy, because she noticeably differed from the other humans.

She must have seen so strange and exotic to them. Here they held a creature, human in appearance but a vampire in attitude. Also I was right to assume she put up a good fight before being captured and restrained. They certainly took notice of her advanced knowledge on vampiric weak points and their curiosity about her is what kept her alive at that moment. One Turelim in particular took great interest in her. He was the captain of this squad and he was the one who assaulted her the most. He took pleasure in trying to tame her wild spirit and he explored many physical ways to do so. Reluctantly she eventually told me his name and I would not forget it.

I know she asked me not to undertake any foolish act on her behalf, but I could not let this go unpunished. He had touched and broken what was mine and I would see her have retribution for her stolen innocence. To set her mind at ease I told her she had nothing to worry about, but meanwhile in my head I was already planning my move. My thoughts also went out to her further future. Did I still want to continue this situation the way it did? It just seemed that everyone who I ever held close in my life would end up getting hurt. So I decided to make other arrangements for her and I already knew she would not approve of my decision. But it would be in her best interest and I hoped one day she would come to see it that way as well.

I also hoped she would forgive me for breaking my promise not to seek revenge in her name. But it had to be done. One day I waited patiently for her to fall tight asleep and then I snuck off making my way back to the village. It was the perfect moment to do so, because she had healed well enough to sustain herself, but she wasn’t yet strong enough to come trailing after me. Once I returned to the village I was astonished once more. The fast progress they were making with the setup of the bloodfarm was impressive. I did feel a small amount of pity for the villagers who I distantly came to know over the years. But I guess they could have been worse off with the Melchahim or Dumahim. And that day was not meant for handing out pity any way, that day was meant for retaliation.

In my mind I had it all planned out perfectly, but it would seem I had to adjust my plan at the last minute. I hoped to get into the village unnoticed again, but a keen soldier had picked up on my presence. Apparently he was very skilled with his gift of telekinesis and I was pulled from my hiding place by unseen force. Of course he immediately questioned me about my intents and when I answered he seemed shocked to recognise my voice.

Yes, we knew each other, or at least we had known each other quite well back in our fledgling days. We could even be called best friends in the bygone era when our two clans did not clash as much. Now I wasn’t as sure about his attitude towards me, for things had changed so much over these long years. To be sure about his assumption I was asked to remove my hood and I accepted his request. My face, though scarred, refreshed his memories of me even more and to my surprise he chose to clasp arms with me in brotherly fashion. We exchanged some quick banter, but even an unexpected meeting with an old ally, couldn't keep me from my mission.


	9. A colossal challenge

When I told him honestly why I was there he gave me a short silent stare and then nodded. It seemed my old ally shared my hatred for this horrible Captain and he would rather see him dead as well. So he decided to aid me and I followed him closely to their campsite. He showed me the grand tent where the captain was residing at the moment and I thanked my old friend for his assistance. I truly wished we would have met under better circumstances, because I would have loved to exchange some stories with him, as we did back in the old days. But business before pleasure.

A phrase apparently unknown to the Turelim Captain, because inside the tent I had found him to be in a very compromising position. He was intimately sharing his bed with two gorgeous young fledglings and he was very annoyed about the interference. The young ones fled as soon as they saw me make my entrance with my sword already unsheathed and ready to strike. They were of no interest to me and I allowed them to pass me by without harm. The Turelim Captain however, he was ready to meet my challenge. Standing up straight he was a massive figure to behold, towering over me like a giant. But I was not impressed or scared off by his colossal physique. I knew my own strengths and I somewhat knew the weaknesses of my opponent.

He did not attack me instantly, because with my ragged appearance I must have seen like a very small threat to him. At first glance he thought I was an assassin send by one of his many enemies to obtain his head. A thought that made him burst out in contemptuous laughter. Sadly his laughter did not subside when I revealed the true reason for my presence. He found it hard to believe a vampire would undertake such an act for a mere slave and he called me a soft-hearted human lover in the process. I knew he meant this as an insult, but how could I be insulted by the truth. I did love this human, for she was **_my_** human and I would see him suffer for what he had done to her. Normally I would not be the one to initiate a fight, but this was a matter of honor.

Like the Dumahim the Turelim were strong and fierce warriors, but I always considered them an even greater adversary. Most Dumahim I encountered were more brawn then brain, but Turelim could be very clever with their tactics. And I did well to not underestimate this massive tyrant. His style was very calculated and to my surprise he also moved very fast for his size. Normally my lighter physique gave me an advantage in speed over such bulky opponents, but he was keeping up with me without a problem. He also didn’t even bother to reach for any type of weapon, his claws were all he needed and they were challenging enough to deal with. I really needed to try a different approach to gain my advantage over this skilled juggernaut.

Perhaps he would be vulnerable to verbal taunting, because he struck me as the vain and proud type. And I was right in my assumption. He really disliked the name calling and as his rage grew his attacks became sloppier. But even in this state of mind he was able to attack me with some perfectly good hits. One of them even flung me straight through one side of the tent and I landed on the ground outside. The fall had hurt my back and remaining wing, but I had no time to give in to my pain. His loud pounding footsteps were already closing in on me and I needed to react quickly.

Outside the tent the other Turelim were already gathering. Undoubtedly they were warned by the two fledglings I allowed to flee. But I was sure the commotion from our fight would also not have gone unnoticed. For the time being they were just standing round us in a wide circle and none of them made an attempt to aid their Captain. Not that he would have accepted their assistance anyway. With a roaring voice he even commanded them to stand down no matter what. I was to be his prize and nobody else would be allowed to spoil his perfect kill. He even started boasting to the crowd about what horrors he would inflict on me, before granting me a slow death.

The on looking Turelim might have been shocked or impressed by his words, but I had been through so much in my life, that his claims did not faze me. I only took notice of his words when he aimed his threats towards Bovy and promised me he would seek her out. At that point I snapped and I unintentionally let my emotions get the better of me. It was not a proud moment and I deserved the hurt I received for not thinking straight. But luckily I would regain my wits just in time.


	10. The parting of ways

As I was being slammed down once more, the hit somehow brought me back to my senses. While I lay there moaning on the ground I suddenly saw an opportunity to even the odds a little. Rolling to the side, avoiding his big sharp claws by only a hair, I quickly exchanged my sword for my dagger. With a rapid movement I had pulled it from its sheath and I used it to slice open the tendons at the back of his legs. And suddenly he came falling down like some big tower being demolished.

Now he didn’t seem so tall anymore and I immediately went in for the kill. I lunged myself at his back and he was trying to buck me of like some sort of wild animal. But I was able to cling on to him very tightly and while he was struggling to get a hold of me I continued to stab at him with my dagger. With each blow I tried to burrow the blade as deep as I could and as he started to lose more and more blood, his responses became slower. Eventually he would succumb to his blood loss and to ensure his death even more I decided to slit his throat to completely bleed him out.

Now the ground was painted red with blood, both his and mine. The sight of the violent fight and the smell of our spilled crimson life essence had stirred the Turelim crowd. I had slain their mighty Captain and some of them seemed ready to attack. There was no way I could possibly stand up to each and every one of them and it would seem my number was finally up. And I would have accepted my fate, because it would have been a good death. While preparing myself to parry the next attack, suddenly someone stepped in front of me.

My old Turelim friend had come to my aid and he raised his voice to his brothers and sisters. They seemed to hold him in high regard, because he was able to make them stand down once more. All of them were listening carefully to what he had to say and there were a lot of nods and murmurs of agreement. I was fortunate for many reasons. One being the surprise reunion with an old ally and another being the fact nobody in this squad truly liked their leader. It would turn out I actually had done them a huge favour. One Turelim warrior who was particularly bitter towards his former Captain even handed me his cleaver and I was allowed to claim the head as a trophy. I accepted the offer and I could not wait to proudly show Bovy what I had done for her.

But unfortunately her reaction would not be as I had expected. She was shocked and abhorred by the sight of the decapitated head of her tormentor and I placed it back in the carry bag as quickly as I could. I thought this deed would have made her happier, but it seemed she was sad and furious. This was the first time in her entire life she had raised her voice at me in such a manner. Any other vampire would have punished her for such insolence, but I let her rage it out and call me anything she liked. I only stood there in silence and waited for her to finish her outburst.

Eventually she did and her rage was suddenly replaced with sorrow. She fell to her knees sobbing and I kneeled down beside her, placing my arm around her for comfort. Both of us were never any good with dealing with our emotions. But I guess this is what happens when you build up an emotional dam and one day it breaks down. Eventually everything will come flooding out at once. When she had said her piece and her tears were somewhat drying up again, it would be my turn to speak.

As we already reached an emotional low that day, I decided I might as well be blunt and add insult to injury. I told her what I had planned for her near future and as I expected she did not take kindly to the idea of us parting ways. She shouted at me, she cried and she even pleaded. But eventually she accepted it would be for the best. Then I had her agree on my terms and I told her arrangements would be made as soon as possible. I also prepared her for the idea that this would be our last long journey together.

I never thought our departure would hit me that hard, but I was proven wrong. I missed her company dearly, but I knew she would be truly safe now. You might be wondering about her whereabouts, but that is a secret I would take with me to my grave. She is alive and hopefully very content and that is all you need to concern yourself with. And as for me? I am trying hard to get back into my old routine from the time before I met Bovy. But so far I have utterly failed to do so. Unrest has taken me and I feel a great emptiness in my life. There is a void in my heart that needs filling and a sword at my side that needs a new purpose. So as I continue to travel the land, aimlessly and alone, I just keep on hoping that one day I might find a new path worth following.


	11. Extra info

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PERSONAL INFORMATION:  
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 **  
Name:** Tristan  
 **Age:** Adult  
 **Gender / Pronoun:** Male / He-Him  
 **Sexuality:** Prefers women _(but he’s not in the market for one at the moment)  
_ **Race/Clan:** Vampire / Razielim Ranger  
 **Extra info:** Has facial scars / Lost his right wing  
  
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BASIC STATS:  
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 **Grace:** +2  
 **Charm:** -1  
 **Daring:** 0  
 **Cunning:** +1  
 **Primal:** +1  
  
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MOVES:  
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1\. **Survival of the Savage**  
 _Description_ : Tristan is very skilled in survival  
 _Template used_ : When you do something relating to [SURVIVAL], add +1 (to your roll)  
  
2\. **Bloody Mess!**  
 _Description_ : Tristan carries a slim lightweight sword with a sloping triangular shaped blade.  
This shape causes wounds to heal slower than a stab from a normal flat shaped blade.  
When used on humans they might even bleed out, because the shape of the wound is hard to stitch up.  
 _Template used_ : You have a [SWORD]. When applicable, it adds +1 to [GRACE] and [DARING]  
  
3\. **Silent Observer**  
 _Description_ : Tristan will most likely observe and annalise a situation or a person before undertaking a step.  
 _Template used_ : Add +1 to [CUNNING]  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
SHORT BIOGRAPHY:  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tristan has lived through some very tough times. The scars on his face and his one missing wing bare testimony to his past trials.  
His past experiences also make him very cautious and distrusting towards other vampires and he particularly despises Dumahim. For a good reason, I assure you.

For many years he has lived in solitude, avoiding being seen or contacted by others. He rarely stays in one place very long and he has travelled the realm far and wide. During his journeys he has discovered many hidden paths and secret passageways, unknown to most. And during his time as a loner, he has gained a fast amount of survival skills, keeping him save in ‘the wild’. He always was considered to be a good tracker and hunter, but now he has honed these skills to perfection.

Being a sole Razielim doesn’t come as easy to him as it might appear. He misses his clan dearly, but he refuses to seek them out. He fears he might repeat a past mistake and bring death to their doorstep once more. During a time when his loneliness was difficult to bare, he adopted a human into his care when he per chance came across it. Their time together changed his attitude towards humans somewhat. Though he still does not trust them, he will try a soft and civil approach when possible. When it is time to feed, he might even let them live, if they seem worthy enough and don’t attack him first.  
  


When he was still a fledgling his Sire complimented him on his fighting skills, especially showing promise with the use of a sword or pole arm. He was assured a position in the Elite Guard if he would keep up the good work. Though a worthy warrior Tristan lacks the eagerness to incite a fight on his own. He will stand his ground when provoked and he will most certainly take up arms for a good cause or to protect those he holds dear. But pure aggression doesn’t seem to be his first nature and he thrives most by a defensive tactic.

He likes to hide his appearance with a hooded cloak. Once he felt fair, now he doesn’t like the possibly of questions about his facial scars or the idea they might be off putting. He tries to keep low profile and even tucks his remaining wing underneath the fabric. When need calls him to do so he can even go unnoticed amongst a human crowd, hiding his vampiric appearance under that dark hood. 

Tristan is more of an observing listener, then a boastful talker and he always thinks twice before he speaks his mind. But when he does speak his mind he does so truthfully and perhaps sometimes even with somewhat Razielim haughtiness.

Though being a loner for so long, he can be persuaded to join a group when you can convince him the need is most dire and the threat is the greatest. He will show a lot of distrust, but he will share his skills to aid and protect (although probably quite reluctant at first).  
  
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ARCHETYPE: The Survivor  
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 **#6.** _Nosgoth is becoming an ugly and violent place. Law and society are breaking down completely.  
What’s yours is yours only while you can hold it in your hands.  
There’s no_ _peace anymore. There’s no stability anymore but what you carve,  
inch by inch, out of the stone and dirt, and then defend with murder and blood._  
 _Sometimes the obvious move is the right one._ _You are the baddest of asses.  
Your moves are simple, direct, and violent.Crude, even. You take no shit.  
Like some, if things are going well, you might be kicking your heels,_ _but Interesting relationships keep you in the scene._  
  
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CHARACTER IN-GAME SHEET:  
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Character Sheets made by: _TheTinySirLittleTurd  
_

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**Author's Note:**

> This story started out as a “short” backstory for a Legacy of Kain themed D&D/TRPG Character.  
> The concept was supposed to be very simple, but as I began writing, new ideas just kept coming.  
> And soon the number of pages just kept growing, eventually creating a story sizeable enough to share.  
> I’m sure my writing style won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but thank you in advance for giving it a go. 
> 
> PS: English is not my native language, so you may encounter some odd spelling or grammatical errors.  
> If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to drop me a note. I’m always more than happy to fix it.


End file.
